This week's window on the Middle East - July 9, 2012

Arab Awakening's columnists offer their weekly perspective on what is
happening on the ground in the Middle East. Leading the week: Rita from Syria tells a harrowing tale of narrowly escaping death and the lesson she learned in the process.

"No sects please: we're Syrian"

It was the day
of the funeral for a martyr in Midan, the epicentre of anti-regime protest in
Damascus. My friends and I were running away from the shabiha (paid thugs
in the service of the regime) who had come to attack the funeral procession
after it had turned into an impromptu protest.

They started
shooting and firing tear-gas canisters at the mass of protesters. We quickly
made our escape through the narrow alleys off the main thoroughfare. Unfamiliar
with the neighbourhood, we found ourselves trapped down a blind alley. As if by
miracle, two young women in their early twenties dressed in the traditional
white jubba worn by conservative Sunni women during prayer waved to us from a
balcony overlooking the alley, signalling for us to enter their house. In a
blink of an eye, all nine of us protesters found ourselves being ushered into
the sanctuary of this family we did not know.

The regime goons
had invaded the neighbourhood: all we could hear was the sound of gun fire
cracking the air. The family welcomed all of us, guys and girls without
hesitation or question. The lads from our group moved with the father and the
son to a separate room, while us girls remained in the living room. The two
daughters were frequent protesters, and told us that at each protest or
funeral, a member of the family keeps an eye on the alley where protesters like
us come fleeing from the shabiha and get trapped. It turned out that we
weren't the only activists that had sought refuge with them.

Despite our
varied backgrounds, we spent the afternoon talking like old mates while drinking
juice and coffee. No-one made mention of which sect they belonged to and the
question was never asked of us - directly or otherwise. Within a short while,
neighbours and relatives in the same building had got wind of what had happened
and came to see us. An elderly woman told us about her son who had been
detained for two months by security intelligence forces. After three hours, the
young men of the apartments building drove us out of Midan - making sure the
way was clear of regime goons – until we arrived at a safe spot to hail a taxi.

The taxi was
hurtling down the street, dancing to the tempo of the deafening synthesized
beats of dabkeh popular music beloved by all Syrian taxi drivers. As is the way
of taxi-drivers the world over, he started to make conversation. The adrenaline
which had coursed through my veins earlier in the afternoon drained out of me.
I was frightened. I thought to myself he might figure out I was at the
funeral/protest - a crime in itself in the eyes of the Syrian regime. I tried
giving some evasive answers, but then he cornered me; “where are you
from?" he asked. On the face of it, a seemingly innocuous question, but
under the regime of the al-Assad's the mundane morphs into the menacing. “Where
are you from?” is an indirect question to find out which sect somebody belongs
to in Syria, as some towns and regions are strongly affiliated with one
minority or another. For instance, the Druze in Sweida, the Ismailis in
Selemiye, the Allawis along the coast, and Christians in the straight-forwardly
named wādi al-Naṣāra [the valley of the Christians].

When I told
him, he visibly relaxed, thinking that we were from the same sect. He started
to tell me how much he missed his village in the mountains, but because he
moonlights for the security forces (taxi drivers are notorious for this), he
was forced to leave his family and come to Damascus to fight as he put it “the
terrorists and the salafists who had invaded the country.” He spoke about his
participation in suppressing demonstrations, calling the demonstrators
"ara'ir" in reference to the firebrand Salafist, Shaykh Adnan Ar'our,
whose sermons broadcast over the internet and satellite television have been
the bane of the regime's existence. Ar'our was also the first cleric to come
out against the regime.

The
taxi-driver's words were of a man who had complete conviction he was defending
his country against a foreign conspiracy. I remember thinking to myself “he
could have been the one who shot at me and my friends. He could be the one who
killed the martyr whose mother was unable to cry, not believing what had
happened to her son.

I started
asking myself: does protesting make me a terrorist? The family that rescued us
was a conservative Sunni family, but I felt closer to them than the young
driver who belongs to the same sect as I do. Why? Because the new Syrian
society is – yes – divided, but it is split between the sectarian regime which
changes the way it deals with people on the basis of their sectarian or
regional affiliation on the one hand, and the Syrian people on the other hand,
who at each daily protest are raising the famous slogan "wahid,
wahid,wahid: al-sha'b al-Sūry wahid" which means the Syrian people are
united. More than just saying it, they are living this fact in their day-to-day
lives.

Jordan adapting

Jordan is
perhaps less violently exposed to the regional changes taking place around it than
say Lebanon. But make no mistake; regional events are already shaping Jordan’s
internal affairs in a profound way.

The Egyptian
Muslim Brotherhood’s successful election campaign and its ability to clinch Egypt’s
presidency is an inspirational story for Islamic parties in the region. This
includes, of course, Jordan’s own Islamic Action Front (IAF).

Immediately
after Mohammed Morsi’s victory, members of the IAF expressed hope for a ‘Morsi
contagion’ to spread to the rest of the Arab world. They also called for a
delegation of 100 Muslim Brothers to go to Egypt to congratulate the new
president.

Even more than a
success story, the IAF undoubtedly feels that it has been given the possibility
of a strong regional alliance. Much speculation exists around the Egyptian
president’s foreign policy, but there is reason for the IAF to hope that
Morsi’s election can translate into political clout at home.

This regional
alliance might quickly turn into a liability however, depending on how the
international community receives Morsi’s presidency. Nonetheless, for the
interim, the Jordanian government might be less rash in dismissing the IAF’s
political demands. Rather, recent signs are showing that the Jordanian
government is rightly seeking some form of rapprochement with the Muslim
Brothers.

The less
tangible and more speculative of these signs is Jordan’s recent contact with
the Syrian Muslim Brotherhood. This has fuelled much debate about what role, if
any, Jordan is looking to play in Syria. Considering the increase in the number
of refugees fleeing the violence into Jordan, there is an urgent need for the
Kingdom to formulate a coherent policy towards Syria.

The more obvious
sign however has been the undeniable shift in Jordan’s policy towards Hamas.
Khaled Meshal’s warm recent reception in Amman seems to have completely reversed
past bitterness between Hamas and Jordan.
This is not entirely unusual considering their tumultuous relationship. Yet the
recent warmth is also an indication of the potential for symbiosis which
regional changes have given rise to between the Hashemite regime and the
Islamic movement.

Hamas’ external
leadership is increasingly attempting to align itself with the Arab people
against authoritarian regimes. The movement is looking to define its role in
the region after having left Damascus, and is seeking to avoid marginalisation.
Jordan could presumably provide Hamas with the stability it needs to ride out this
period of transformation.

In return, Hamas
could be just the interlocutor the monarch needs to reach an agreement with the
IAF. Jordan’s government is aware that such an agreement is particularly important
following the announcement of its election law, which the IAF opposes. The
government will work hard to ensure IAF participation in the elections, as that
will extend much needed legitimacy to the new cabinet.

At a time of
significant turmoil, the Jordanian government is right to build networks of
open communication with the Muslim Brothers regionally. They are, after all, an
integral part of this transformation.

Is Qatar becoming the new Dubai?

Recently much has been made of the increased
tensions in Dubai surrounding expatriates and their dressing habits, and
the offence this has caused to local Emiratis. The UAE is not alone in having this
problem, similar issues have been rearing their head in Qatar in recent months,
and on a number of occasions (mostly) young western women have found themselves
being confronted by (mostly) older Qatari women seeking to admonish them for
not respecting the cultural guidelines.

I travel frequently to Dubai and observe
closely the differences that exist between it and Doha. 850m tall buildings
aside, the differences are readily and immediately apparent.

Firstly Qataris are far more assertive in
their identity than Dubai locals; although facing similar problems with being
swamped by expatriate culture there is still no doubt that Qatar is an Arab
country, and that Qataris play a highly visible part in creating this sense of
Arabness. Particularly in the evenings most restaurants and malls are filled
with men in white gutras and thobes speaking Arabic. It is a visual and
linguistic assertion of space.

Secondly, despite its outward appearances Qatar
remains a conservative society. This is not to say that Emiratis are not
conservative, many certainly are; merely that they have allowed a deeper
encroachment of liberalism into daily life which has been matched by an
associated retreat by Emiratis from the main areas of the city and into the
majlis. Although something similar has happened in Doha, it is clear that
Qataris have still maintained for the public space a modicum of traditionalism
that in Dubai has long since lost.

On the religious front, the mosques in Doha
are palpably louder than in Dubai, and Friday prayers can be heard all over the
city. The Friday messages in particular are interesting, clerics emphasising the
rejection of bidah (literally ‘novelty’, read ‘western ideas’) is a theme that frequently
pervades the public space in Qatar in a loud and assertive fashion that leaves
no doubt as to where sympathies in this country lie.

Two weeks ago I sat down for dinner with a
Qatari man who espoused salafist beliefs, a deeply ascetic and puritanical form
of Sunni Islam. The choice of hotel was interesting; the Movenpick. It is one
of the few hotels in Doha that do not serve alcohol, indeed it was the only hotel
in which he would spend his money because he was boycotting those venues he
felt brought alien practices into the country. The conversation was
wide-ranging and thoughtful, but clear in the message was the sense that all westerners
should pack up and leave, and take their culture with them.

This was an extreme example of a more
widespread phenomenon in Qatar, which is a deep sense of unease as to what
modernisation means for the country. Qataris tend to define modernisation as
western influences that they accept. Westernisation on the other hand is a
negative synonym for western influences that are incompatible with Qatari
culture. Specifically in this regard is the idea that Westerners eating pork,
drinking or wearing a bikini is not just a religious offence, but an assertion
of cultural space that actively blocks locals from entering. It is a
representation of domination without listening, a black and white discourse in
which only the west is right.

So when a Qatari says: ‘We are not Dubai
and we will not become Dubai’ it is not simply that they don’t want women in
bikinis walking around shopping malls, it is a reflection of something far
deeper. It is to be free of the control of ‘the West’, and to not be told what
to do and how to do it.

Dubai’s failure to maintain its culture is
not something most Qataris wish to repeat; the key is balancing modernisation
with westernisation, taking the good and filtering out the bad. Some like my
Salafi friend will never be happy, while others are more willing to accept some
change if it improves their lives without fundamentally threatening their
heritage.

Tunisia rethinking its Arab Muslim identity

Recent government proposals to open Tunisia’s borders
for North Africans (except Egyptians) created a furor amongst the Tunisian
public. President Moncef Marzouki’s timid welcome for these new decisions “pushing
for more Arab and Maghreb unity” only drew more of a public outcry.

The decision didn’t strike me as it struck others.
After all, free capital and labour will be soon a major plank that could help
North African economies which have been depending on a troubled Europe for a very
long time now. But Tunisians don’t seem to agree with me. The majority of the
Tunisian people were against these decisions, each societal grouping for their
own reasons. Many fear that new immigrants will take the jobs they don’t even
want. Others fear bearded Algerian terrorists who might cross our borders just as
the army is reinforcing its troops there. And, others just don’t want alien
immigrants living next door or even voting in the next elections. Overall, most
Tunisians are against any massive Arab immigration into the country if it’s not
for work or investment-purposes.

So I find myself reconsidering what it means to be
Arab in Tunisia and how much of this do we actually need?

The Ennahda Islamist party was the winner of the
elections. They promised big and they won big. They campaigned everywhere and
discussed many matters. They captured the camera lenses of international media
crews and had the biggest share of media coverage. Another type of politician
failed to make it into people’s hearts. They often looked lighter-skinned than
your average Tunisian, driving fancy cars, constantly talking about money and
numbers, racing from one big conference to another, and wrapping it all in an
abstruse language barely understood by the populace.

Their Islamist counterparts knew far better what to do.
They were certainly better geographically skewed. They knew the Tunisian
geographic map better than anyone. Some of them didn’t have cars. Their French
was often broken and they liked to inaugurate their speeches with “bismillah”
or “in the name of God”.

They knew how to get to people. They simply KISS’ed
it; they kept it simple and stupid. Free healthcare for the poor, more jobs in
this region, social justice as God wishes, more religiosity and conservatism
because this country is not French and because we’re Arabs for heaven’s sake!

Tunisians protest University of Manouba raising the Salafists flag

Tunisians loved that. Just in the middle of a
political crisis, when some people including some rich teenagers were calling
for a French-type secularism – the Tunisian working class felt as if it had to
choose Arab Muslimness over any foreign identity, western mostly, that has screwed
them over so royally for decades, backing up their dictator. Hence the outcome.

In fact, Arab Muslim identity has never been key to
Tunisian politics or foregrounded by any government. An honorary title that
allows some petro-dollars (or millions of dollars) into the country to build
more roads, hospitals, and schools only trains up more young Tunisians who reject
fundamentalism and reject the Gulf bloc in favour of Tunisian secularism. Probably
the only time Tunisia has had to adopt an ‘Arab Muslim stance’ was at
independence, when we claimed the right to self-determination back from France,
basing it on our ethnic and cultural distinctiveness. Soon after independence,
Pan-Arabists became target number one of the regime. We didn’t hesitate to
break off relations with our Arab neighbours, distancing ourselves from their ‘immature
politics’.

“Arabs agreed
not to agree.” I grew up making people smile with this phrase at a time when
Arab leaders were calling for extraordinary plenary sessions in vain during the
war in/on Iraq. Indeed, Arabs only seemed to reunite in times of war. The rest
of the time they had conflicting interests. Some of them loathe each other.
They have many differences, yet they shared one major common trait:
dictatorship.

Tunisians, and perhaps North Africans, distance
themselves from this. The average Tunisian joe knows anything about the Arab
world or the Middle East, except maybe its major cities or capitals. Some might
not even be able to point to Kuwait on a map or to tell the difference between
Qatar and Bahrain.

So there seems to be nothing that could reunite us. As
much as I would like to see a more effective economic integration between North
African and Middle Eastern countries, this isn’t happening. Therefore, I think our
relations should be confined for now to commercial bilateral agreements. People
know who they are and they don’t need to be reminded of that in every political
speech. The Arab Muslim identity should not be invoked as an excuse by some
politicians to limit the freedoms of the Tunisian people that they have coveted
for so long. We Tunisians don’t need to bow down before any religion or any
ethnicity to be accepted by other people who are nothing like us. We are a great
nation and we shall be the masters of our own politics.

Victims of military rule: an interminable nightmare

Mohannad
Samir, a teenage undergraduate student unaffiliated with any political movement,
one of the few who went down to Tahrir Square on January 25 against Mubarak’s
regime, and participated actively in all the major sit-ins against the SCAF,
has been behind bars for almost six months.

During the
violent army's crackdown on the peaceful sit-in outside the cabinet building on
December 2011, he was shot in the leg while attempting to save one of his
friends who was killed by a bullet in his chest from the military police.

While
being treated in hospital, he was asked to testify about his friend's death as
he had clearly seen the faces of the security forces that killed him. However, when,
before being finally released from hospital he made an effort to go to the Cairo
security directorate, to help in the suspect identification from an array of
photos, he found himself arrested on trumped up charges of attempting to destroy
public property, "thuggery" and incitement to violence. Afterwards,
he was put in a basement cell for a few days then transferred to the appalling
conditions and worse medical care of Tora prison hospital. His ‘trial’ was
postponed three times, prolonging his unjust imprisonment and endangering his
health.

Mohannad's
story, as told by his mother, was one of nearly 12000 accounts of civilians who
were detained and brought before military courts in unfair trials since the
deployment of the Egyptian army to the streets on January 28, 2011 up till now,
even after Morsi's inauguration. According to Al-Nadeem
center report narrating their painful
experiences, they don't only include rebels but a diverse spectrum of ordinary
people of different ages, social classes and professions; males, females and
even children, politically affiliated and unaffiliated.

Many
were freed, while the number of people who are still in prison is unknown. Very
regrettably they have usually been depicted in the official government-led
media as "thugs" who threatened the country's security, hindering any
potential large public support of their cause. All the twitter campaigns,
YouTube videos, marches, sit-ins and lately the hunger strike have attracted
waning attention over time, and are now limited only to human rights defenders
and the parents of the detainees.

Any
official response?

Almost
all the political parties and active movements have denounced the military
trials of civilians, violating the basic right of every human to "a fair
and public hearing by a competent, independent and impartial tribunal
established by law”. In theory,
military tribunals cannot be used unless the civilian courts can't open their
doors or when war is lawfully declared, as is not the case in post-revolution
Egypt.

However,
once elected, the issue was not on the top of the Islamist- dominated, ex-parliament's
agenda. Even worse, a few months later, the MP’s decision was very
disappointing to the civil liberties groups, slightly amending the military
justice code to strip the president the right to refer civilians to military
tribunals, limiting it to the workings of military justice only. They failed to
adopt one of the members' proposals which would have given civilians the right
to appeal against sentences issued by military courts before civilian
tribunals.

Although
the new president is associated with the Muslim Brotherhood, human rights
groups pinned high hopes on him. As a matter of fact, this issue represents a
bottleneck for Morsi's presidency to enhance his credibility as a revolutionary
leader with full powers, eager to defend the civil rights of his discontented people
against any oppression. The tens of protestors gathered outside the
presidential palace for many days have forced him to form an investigative
committee encompassing the military judiciary, the interior ministry, the
public prosecution and civil society members. According to the "No military trials for civilians" movement, highly skeptical of this measure, a
plausible solution should comprise a) an official apology and appropriate
compensation to all the detainees, b) stopping military tribunals for civilians,
issuing presidential pardons to those in military prisons and retrying them in
civilian courts, c) prosecution of all the military officials involved in
torture and illegal detention practices.

Can the
silver-tongued Morsi staunchly oppose the army's consistently defended
practices or will he eat his promises and retain his acquiescent rhetoric? For
the revolutionaries, the revolution's success is inextricably linked to the
fate of those civilians. Those who would "sacrifice their liberties in
order to save their freedoms deserve neither".

Egypt’s history repeating itself fallacy

In the nascent
days of World War II, French Premier Paul Reynaud remarked to General Philippe
Pétain: “You take Hitler for another Wilhelm I, the old man who seized
Alsace-Lorraine from us and that was all. But Hitler is Genghis Khan.”
Reynaud’s subtext was clear: if you wish to use the ‘history repeating itself’
line, use the right history.

Using history as
a guide, no matter how well intentioned, is often fraught with high risks:
outcomes can vastly diverge from the history lesson sought initially. For
example, the lesson of Munich (1938) ‘not to appease dictators’ set the tone
for the 1956 Anglo-French confrontation with Egyptian president Gamal Abdel
Nasser in the Suez War. It turned out disastrous for the protagonists and left
the young Egyptian leader with all the claims he might need to a political and
moral victory.

Egypt today has
a semi-emasculated Islamist president, a reinstated but uncertain parliament, the strong presence
of the Muslim Brotherhood, an overbearing military council, a restless public,
all mixed up with an economic crisis. Questions are being asked, is Egypt going
to become like 1979 Iran, 1991 Algeria, Old model Turkey, 1999 Pakistan, or
even 1954 Egypt?

Isn’t it
possible that 2012 Egypt may be just that, 2012 Egypt - with all its
idiosyncrasies, rotation of actors, socio-economic uncertainties, Pan-Arabism
from below, digital youth; in an era of globalisation and changing
geo-strategic realities, all the while taking into consideration the unique
historical forces that shape these factors?

It is one thing
to discern trends in history and attempt to learn from the past in order not to
repeat similar mistakes. Yet another is to carpet-bomb Egypt with the ghosts of
“history repeats itself” templates.

The theocratic
Iran analogy is far-fetched despite the rise of Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood and
the Morsi presidency. Egypt’s military establishment were old enough to
remember the Shah’s military playing a minimal role in the 1979 uprising as
various Iranian factions battled each other out for control of the revolution.
For all its faults and counter-revolutionary streak, the Egyptian military has
been the backbone of the transition and acts as a check on the rise of a
singular radical force.

Economic
considerations will drive political imperatives. There are vast differences
between Iran’s oil exporting economy and Egypt’s service-driven economy. Iran
does not require the goodwill of the international community as customers are
in plenty supply who will buy Iranian oil. This does not work for Egypt as
self-sufficiency is in rare supply and not an option the new Egyptian government
can fall back on. Hence Egypt’s strengths in tourism requires a positive image
and the shunning of ultra-conservative laws if tourists are to even set foot in
Egypt. Moreover, the dependency on tourism, Suez Canal revenue, cotton exports,
investments, aid, Egyptian expatriate remittances and so forth, places Egypt as
a crucial node in the globe’s economic and social inter-connectedness.

Algeria
is the favoured analogy as of late, the country that was plunged into a
bloody civil war in the 1990s following cancelled elections by the military to
prevent an Islamist victory. This is despite countless differences between the
two countries: Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood and Algeria’s Islamic Salvation
Front, military establishments, sources of legitimacy, socio-economic
realities, international stakeholders and very different contexts.
Interestingly, it seems difficult for the doomsday commentators to contemplate
the optimistic version of the ‘history repeating itself’ line. Egypt, for all
its past repressive authoritarian regimes, has not experienced civil wars and
one would be hard pressed to find, let alone hear of, a mass grave. Yet
Algeria’s tragic loss of over 100,000 lives is supposedly the outcome awaiting
Egypt.

Nor is it 1954
Egypt, when the military torpedoed any prospects of democracy, and clamped down
on the Muslim Brotherhood and other opposition forces. Ahmad Shokr provides a compelling
refutation in Jadaliyya of this
comparison that preoccupies many people in Egypt. Shokr notes that unlike 1954
Egypt and the Free Officers, the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces (SCAF) is
not as politicised (although desperate to preserve their privileges), does not
see itself as a force for change, lacks mass public support, all in a
post-colonial context where attitudes towards representative democracy are
favoured and political mobilisation is broader.

Finally, the
problem of the history repeating itself fallacy is that it is the silent
nightrider of fear that feeds into a vicious cycle that rattles stock markets,
bulges emigration queues, foments societal suspicions, reinforces orientalist
perceptions, and sustains the Arab world’s ‘healthy’ conspiracy industry –
often before any reason for fear presents itself.

What the past
year and a half illustrates is that in the absence of a decisive success by a
singular force that could author a hegemonic order, Egypt will continue to see
the persistence of street battles, protests, sit-ins, and compromises between
SCAF, the Morsi presidency, former regime remnants, emerging political players
and the popular masses who continue to rival the establishment in setting the
pace of the transition and widen the parameters of the debate. This seems to be
the script of the extended revolution. If so, Mark Twain’s words might be more
applicable here: “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme.”

Bahrain bids its economic reform farewell

The Bahraini government may have finally
driven the last nail into the coffin of the economic and labour market reforms
that the Crown Prince initiated in 2006. These reforms, whose goal was to
discourage local businesses from hiring cheap expatriate labour and instead
encourage them to employ Bahrainis, were unpopular with businesses from the
onset. Since the declaration of a State of National Safety (i.e. State of
Emergency) on March 15, 2011, the government
has made it clear that it intended to backpedal on the reforms in an
attempt to secure political support from the business community.

Over the past two weeks, under pressure
from the merchant class the government made two important announcements: an extension of the
suspension of fees levied on business owners for every foreign worker they
hire and a reduction in the
minimal quota for hiring local workers imposed on firms. Ironically, it
also emerged through statements made by the Labour Market Regulatory
Authority’s (LMRA) new head Mr. Osama Al-Absi that the LMRA – a body set up in
2006 tasked with actually implementing the said reforms – is to be at the
forefront of this government-led, business-backed campaign.

These announcements come against the
backdrop of a fierce political battle between the government and the opposition
that is currently being waged on the level of the opposition-controlled labour
unions. Incidentally, labour unions and the opposition – exemplified by the
Shiite Islamist Al-Wefaq bloc – provided political support for the Crown
Prince’s reforms in 2006 both in and out of parliament, allowing them to go
through despite resistance from the merchant class and more loyalist political societies.[i]

Moreover, over the past year and a half
since the government regained control of the country in March 2011, yet another
blow has been dealt to the economic and labour market reforms as, one by one,
the former heads of the institutions created to implement them were reassigned.
These include the late Mr. Ali Radhi former CEO of LMRA who was grilled on state television
and accused of laxity with dissenting employees, Mr. Abdulelah Al-Qassimi
former CEO of Tamkeen and Mr.
Talal Al-Zain former CEO of Mumtalakat, Bahrain’s sovereign wealth fund. It
is believed that they have been replaced by successors more sympathetic to the
government rather than to the Crown Prince’s reformist agenda.

While halting the economic and labour
market reforms package, weakening the opposition’s hold on labour unions and
side-lining reformists at the head of economic, labour market and financial institutions
may constitute a huge political victory for conservatives in government, these
measures are bound to impede any effort to tackle the country’s chronic
economic problems including, first and foremost, soaring youth unemployment and
the social and security consequences they are likely to bring with them.

Salafi accusations in Tunis

The faculty of
arts, letters and humanities at the University of Manouba,
just outside Tunis, the capital, has been for almost a year now one of the
flashpoints of the role of religion in public life in ‘post-revolutionary’
Tunisia.

There was a crackdown on religious expression
and practice under the Ben Ali regime, where female students and staff women
were forbidden to wear the hijab inside university campuses. As for the guys,
no long beards were allowed.

The Faculty has provided the backdrop for
numerous bouts of an ongoing dispute between secularists and ultra-conservative
students, also referred to as Salafis.

Having a prayer room and allowing female
students to sit for exams wearing the niqab are some of the Salafis students’
demands that weren’t welcomed by the administrative body of the Faculty led by
Dean Habib Kazdaghli.

On various occasions the Dean has appeared on
state TV and radio concerning the dispute. He justifies his opposition to
allowing religious observation to enter the University on the grounds that it
impedes the communication process essential for education.

Yesterday, July 5 Mr. Kazdaghli appeared
before a court for allegedly
slapping a female student wearing a niqab.

The young female Salafi student filed a
lawsuit against the Dean claiming he had assaulted her in his office. Mr.
Kazdaghli denies this, maintaining that he was only defending himself against
an uninvited agitated student who burst into his office.

The Dean said
that the student who lodged a complaint against him was expelled from his
faculty for six months because she had refused to take off her niqab.

Kazdaghli is being charged with “violence
perpetrated by a civil servant in the course of his duties,” a crime that
carries a penalty of sixteen days to three years in prison and a fine of
between $37 and $300.

Kazdaghli has the support of university staff
and trade unionists who have spoken out against putting him on trial. A committee
that defends university values and academic freedoms has issued a statement
saying Kazdaghli “is not the guilty party, he is the victim of aggression”.

Yesterday’s brief
session of the trial was adjourned until October 25 at the request of the
defence.

No wonder Egyptians are confused

Since Morsi has been in office for
only a few days ago, I have tried to feel upbeat despite my opposition to the
Muslim Brotherhood members being in office and my fears that they will do all
in their power to stay in office even after Morsi's allotted time… Morsi read
his presidential oath in Tahrir Square in front of a huge happy crowd. However, Morsi is a president without
a lot of major presidential powers, so for example he cannot declare war or
take any decisions regarding security in Egypt. The SCAF will still be in
control over the court system, the Ministry of Interior and obviously the military…
Many political forces, including pro and anti-Brotherhood, have accused SCAF of
wrecking the so-called handover of power to civilian government which they have
been promising Egyptians since Mubarak stood down on Feb 11, 2011.

However, some still argue that this
is not such a bad idea, since this will keep the Brotherhood from overpowering
other Egyptian constituencies in forming the government under Morsi or in
changing anything in the constitution that would oppress Egyptians or give more
power to the Brotherhood over future elections. This latter point rather
contradicts the rumour that Morsi will offer Dr Mohamed El Baradei the position
of prime minister and ask him to form the incoming Egyptian government… Dr
Baradei himself it seems, is still waiting for the authorities to settle their
problem with SCAF before he accepts, as many suspect that this whole election
and civil presidency thing is a trick move from SCAF rather like the one they
have recently pulled off by declaring the Parliament unconstitutional. The
much-feared “you want some power? here it is! now you failed and we will take
it away from you again and restart!” game that has allowed SCAF and the
military more time to maintain their rule over Egypt, is a scenario that could
easily be repeated. Dr Baradei doesn’t want to be a part of a crippled
government that Mubarak’s fallen but still functioning regime can use as a coat
hanger for media scapegoating when they start spreading chaos again, just as
they did with Essam Sharaf. Sharaf was chosen by the revolutionaries of Tahrir
Square and made an oath to serve them, but was then mercilessly singled out by SCAF and the
media, and blamed for spreading mayhem all over Egypt…

What fuels those fears is that the
media has already started spreading many rumours against the Islamist sect in
Egypt while former National Security members have been spotted dressing as Islamists,
with long beards, walking through the streets and threatening women who have
not covered their heads that they will all be forced to wear the hijab soon. It
seems that these people are going to great lengths to make it seem like the
Islamists are going to oppress the Egyptian people, forcing them into their way
of understanding Islam…Such is the news at any rate that has been spreading all
over twitter and Facebook in the past week or so as a warning given by the
Brotherhood to warn us that some forces will try their best to ruin relations
between we Egyptians, the new president and the Islamists.

Then came the Suez
incident, three Islamist Salafis saw a young engineer school student
standing alone in the street with his fiancé outside a cinema, and they stopped
and began quizzing him (which they are not entitled to do) about how come he
could be alone with her without a member of her family accompanying them. They
began to argue - him saying it was none of their business, voices got loud and
soon a fight broke out. One of the three salafis pulled out a knife and in the
cafuffle the student had a few vital arteries in his leg severed … an injury
that proved fatal.

So here we go again. The three
salafis have been arrested. Any rumours suggesting that they are ex National
Security agents are dead in the water. Fears are still growing and the battle
is still going on between the authorities and Morsi, criticised by Egypt’s
political and revolutionary forces on one side and the SCAF on the other